


The Inferno that Burns In the Youth

by QueenAshe (queenofdespair)



Series: Countdown of the Infinite Worlds: Eradication [2]
Category: DmC: Devil May Cry, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Angel Blood, Angel Corruption, Angels, Anger, Cameos, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Demon Blood, Demon Powers, Demon Sex, Demonic Possession, Demons, Devils, Disturbing Themes, End of the World, Explicit Language, Eye Sex, Fallen Angels, Flirting, Heavy Angst, Horror, Humanity, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Killer Robots, Loss of Parent(s), Medical Torture, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nephilim, Past Torture, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Robots, Sea Monsters, Slight Flirting, Threats of Violence, Torture, Unethical Experimentation, namedrop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17426744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofdespair/pseuds/QueenAshe
Summary: "You can call me 'Dante the demon killer.' Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"—Dante to "the Secret Ingredient", DmC: Devil May Cry.--Limbo City is a cesspool of darkness, devils and sin. Legend has it that the City taints even the most purest of saints, and corrupts the darkest of hearts into madness. No human has been able to resist the deadly allure of those that rule in secret, from under the earth.At least... not until him.The bastard son of Sparda.And he's out for revenge on three things;The system that failed him,The brother that deserted him,--And the devils that broke him.He will stop at nothing until he's out of hate and anger to dish out.But it's not just his story..A young woman burns, even in the darkest of night, with a skull ablaze, a chain made of hellfire and a mouth full of curses.This is both of their stories; both of their pain.This is how both of their worlds die.





	The Inferno that Burns In the Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Countdown Series.
> 
> \---  
> If you think that Dante's inner thoughts are angry, wait until you meet him in person. 
> 
> [Note: This is essentially an inner monologue, based on the original 2010 trailer for DmC, because I really liked it. I'll be taking other elements from the original trailer, and mixing it with the game's final product (with some changes here and there - the game wasn't terrible, just needed some tweaking here and there, especially with the dialogue). 
> 
> I understand that everyone may not have positive or good feelings at all about this reboot. That's fine. But don't come after me for liking it, is all I ask. This particular story (and character) has personal meaning to me because I can relate to his insurmountable anger at society, the world and what he has to deal with. I love reboot Dante and DmC. I guess I love it so much that I'm willing to rectify the issues in it. (Though I do that with every series I love, if you've noticed, haha.) 
> 
> Anyway, here's my interpretation of the game. Enjoy! (Or don't, that's fine too!)].

_**Unspecified Reality, Designation Unknown...** _

_**Planet ????- ?????,**_

_**Young Offenders Rehabitation Program,** _ _**Limbo City....** _

 

-

For as long as I can remember, I was always able to see things no one else should. 

My parents, for example.

You would think making a baby takes two people. It does, for sure.

But when you mention that your parents are right behind you and people don't see what you do, they automatically think "poor child", "he must be lost", "do you know where your mommy and daddy are?". Yeah, bitch. I JUST said they're right there. I saw them just fine but nobody else does.

No, my twin doesn't fuckin' count. He's my brother. I'd be concerned shitless if even _he_ couldn't see them. But that's the thing. People can clearly see my brother and I. Why not our parents?

Even growing up, it was like that. From whenever the fuck my mom pushed me out, to the age of what, seven? Yeah, let's go with that. Not like I can really remember anything due to my amnesia. Amnesia, my pale _ass_. (This is just me going on a tangent. The doctors say I do that often.)

What was I thinking about? Oh right, when I was seven... My brother died of meningitis around then. My parents died in a car crash. (That's what the doctors keep telling me, at least). I don't remember anything after that point, but the next thing I knew, I was in this fuckin' orphanage or some shit.

Fuck, what was the name of it? Saint Lame? Saint Liam? James? Lamia? Sphinx? No wait, that's Egyptian.

...I think.

Screw it, I don't even give a shit. Anyway, I woke up there and instead of seeing regular people, I saw....

Damn it, what were they called again....?

I really have a piss poor memory. I hate it. Just when I think I got something, it escapes me. Like... some old dude with dementia. (Luckily, I don't have that).

But they looked weird, and strange. Black holes for eyes, their bodies were this .. Black gunk. Like ink. Dark as night. They also moved weird, like they were ... glitching. Like they weren't supposed to be here..  Everyone in the orphanage were these strange inky monsters. No, not monsters.

Demons.

That's what they called themselves.

Everyone were demons.

And they all wanted to kill me.

I didn't let them.

One little boy versus an army, who you'd think win? The army, right? Nope.

I did.

I don't know how but I did. When I came back to myself, everything was on fire and I stood amongst the rubble, holding a Demon's head.

I carried that shit with me everywhere I went, to try to prove to everyone that they were real. That I wasn't making shit up.

It didn't work.

Again, nobody but me saw the damn head, and they all decided that I was crazy.

Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Having almost being KILLED by a force that only YOU can see, that only YOU can touch, a force that only calls out for YOU. Having NO fucking family left?

Fighting these pieces of shit since the age of seven, to whatever twenty-something I am now?

(I stopped keeping track of my age, because I thought I'd finally die before I was 18. Are you fuckin' happy, Doctor Phil? Of course you aren't. Fuck you. Oh shit, tangent again.)

\-- It wasn't easy by the way. I had to get by with random shit I could make on the fly. Knives, Molotovs, baseball bats, hell, my bare fists. I'm stronger than I look.

Way stronger.

If I wanted to right now, I could break myself free from these chains off the wall. Will I? I dunno. Kinda still wanna die, honestly. Anything's better than this shithole of an existence.

But am I gonna keel over and die like a little bitch?

No.

Because that's what weak people do. And I ain't weak. So that's what I'll do. I'll break free today.

I'll get my freedom back. I'm done trying to convince people that I'm not fucking crazy. Maybe I am.

Maybe I'm not.

But I know Demons are real.

And as long as I'm breathing, I'll kill every last of the--

"ARRRRGHHHH!"

\---

 

 


End file.
